


looking for someone

by babybirdblues



Series: ABC Kittons [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I just wanted them all to be happy, and covered in balls of fluff, there are not enough kittens in Les Amis' lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:32:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybirdblues/pseuds/babybirdblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire grins at him, gesturing to where Combeferre is sure Enjolras is twitching in annoyance.  Puns (and sarcasm and satire) are not a form of humour he much appreciates.  The look in Grantaire’s eyes is a challenge.  'Shall you make it, or shall I?' it says.  Who is Combeferre to let a challenge go, especially on a night such as this?  “Well Enjolras, my friend, you just don’t get how Grand we R.  Eventually you will understand.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	looking for someone

It starts off as most things do: with only one of them.  Because Les Amis d’Abaissé tend to be a close knit group of shared interests.  Of course, they all have their differences.  They wouldn’t be as close if they didn’t have their differences.  But when something they all take a liking to appears with one of the group, the rest are soon to obtain it.

That’s precisely what happens when Feuilly happens upon a small tabby kitten on her way home from one of her various jobs.  She doesn’t mean to take the kitten home with her.  But there are no shelters open at this time of the night.  And far be it from her to leave a small defenceless animal out in a cold, dark alleyway.  Even Enjolras isn’t that heartless (she’s pretty sure - ze doesn’t particularly _like_ animals but that’s more of zirs ability, or really inability to take care of zirself).

So, Feuilly ends up with a roommate.

(It’s actually nice to have one again.  It’s a plus that this one doesn’t leave dirty clothing/dishes all around the apartment or yell and threaten her.  Not that _that_ roommate lasted long.  Cosette and Bahorel were disappointed and pouty they didn’t get their go at him.)

The one thing Feuilly doesn’t always have time for is remembering to clean out the litter box.  After one too many times (a total number of two) of Paul leaving her a surprise on the inside doormat, she enlists the help of Grantaire.  Mostly because she knows he won’t spill to the others that she has a kitten.  She’s not quite willing to share him yet.

R’s also less intrusive than the rest of their friends.  She loves them all dearly, really.  But she has no doubt that they’d invade her apartment and never leave if they knew Paul was there.  Her apartment is hers.  _Thank you_.  R knows when it’s okay to come around and when Feuilly needs some time alone to wind down after a long few weeks of work and dealing with annoying coworkers and asshole bosses and then their boisterous friends.  (There wasn’t much time alone in the orphanage with so many kids and then the caretakers worrying you’d run off.)  Sometimes R knows when she needs someone to just sit there and exist with her.

Today is one of those days.

The wind is biting, whistling through the hole in Feuilly’s kitchen window.  If it weren’t for the fact that she texted Grantaire herself she wouldn’t be getting out of her blanket nest.  Paul isn’t happy to be dislodged from his place on her chest.  It’s rare she has a day off, three jobs and all.  So, he takes whatever chance he has to sprawl on top of her on those days. 

(It’s hard ignoring his cries as he follows her around the apartment.  But Feuilly manages.  Next time she goes to get food she’ll have to pick up some treats.)

Grantaire knocks on the door around nine (she can’t begin to express how proud of him she is).

Thankfully being part of Les Amis gets rid of your shyness.  Because Paul brought down the shower curtain on her about half an hour ago; Feuilly’s still only in a towel when she opens the door.  Her neighbour in number eight-oh-two gawks, banging into the wall on his way to the elevator.  Grantaire being the wonderful friend he is shoots him a charming grin and tells him R’s services cost ‘ten grand a session, thank you’.  The hallway is clear pretty quickly after that.

"Thanks."

R’s grin turns lopsided, his right canines showing in that awkward way that’s all Grantaire.  He just shrugs and ushers her back into the apartment.  “So, Rosie, what are we doing today?”

Feuilly can’t be annoyed with him over the nickname.  Not when Paul lets out a battle cry and launches himself at R’s foot.  R pretends to be in pain and flails his arms before hoping up and down on one foot.  Paul chirps in delight as he hangs off R’s jeans; he purrs and makes no fuss when Grantaire scoops him up against his chest.

"I think I need to take him to the vet," Feuilly sighs as she wanders to get dressed.  "But, you are here to help me with the flyers for the next fundraiser Enjolras wants to hold."

R salutes, smile falling a fraction.  It returns when Paul climbs onto his shoulder and begins to clean his ear.  “Yes ma’am!”

—-

The next time a kitten is found the one is actually two.  Not only is everyone surprised when they gather at Combeferre’s apartment to find it occupied.  By kittens.  But still only Grantaire knows that Feuilly has a kitten.

"The Calico is Hippocattus," Combeferre smiles as Joly squeaks.  The pause gets longer as their friend slides down the wall into Bossuet’s legs, pressing his face against his knee and practically gasping.  Only when Joly waves at them does Combeferre continue.  "and the Maine Coon, the loveable old grump he is, is Ascatpius."

Joly makes hiccupping noises and practically wails against Bossuet’s leg.  Combeferre only goes to get him a glass of water, bypassing Courfeyrac who tries to tell him he has horrible taste in names.  The girls don’t seem to mind.  In fact, they even managed to get Scat to come out from under the desk, where he was glaring at everyone but Combeferre.  When Combeferre returns from the kitchen Grantaire has Scat in his hands - staring the old Tom down.

"Kind of a bit of a stretch there, isn’t it?" But R can’t hold in his own giggle.  It becomes louder when Scat bats at his face and meows plainly at Combeferre, obviously wanting down.

Combeferre valiantly rescues his cat.  He doesn’t let a hint of a smile grace his face as he turns back to R though.  “Well, I was clawing for medical puns.  They’ll,” here he indicates the rest of their friends, “Code into it eventually.”

It takes a minute for R to unbury his face from his hands - and really it’s his own fault, he makes worse puns at the rest of their expense.  ”Well, you always are completely Ferre.”

There’s a thunk as Bossuet joins Joly on the floor.  But unlike Joly, Bossuet is showing no restraint to his mirth: he’s clutching his ribs and howling.  While Grantaire uses puns, Bossuet takes the greatest enjoyment of them.  Combeferre suspects Joly explained the names of his new housemates to Bossuet.  He’s not medically knowledgeable, so it’s unlikely he got them himself.

“ _Why_ are you my friends?”

Grantaire grins at him, gesturing to where Combeferre is sure Enjolras is twitching in annoyance.  Puns (and sarcasm and satire) are not a form of humour he much appreciates.  The look in Grantaire’s eyes is a challenge.  _'Shall you make it, or shall I?'_ it says.  Who is Combeferre to let a challenge go, especially on a night such as this?  “Well Enjolras, my friend, you just don’t get how Grand we R.  Eventually you will understand.”

R’s laughter warms the room.  Combeferre watches how their friends relax; tensions most were not aware they were carrying eased away as it encircled them.  He is pleased when Enjolras sits beside Grantaire and strikes up a conversation - a real conversation, not an argument.

"Hey ‘Ferre?"

Combeferre tries very hard to look like he wasn’t watching the two by the door closely.  Feuilly obviously doesn’t believe him - it’s how she rolls her eyes.  “Yes?” 

Her hand gestures towards the cardboard box by his bedroom.  Then the entirely too small litter box and glass bowls (that he stole from the university dorm with Enjolras first year) under the kitchen table.  He doesn’t get what she means, even with her expressive eyebrow raise.  Finally, she gives in with a sigh.  “Do you have any more stuff for you rascals?”

"Oh," he doesn’t.  He hasn’t had the time in the last three days to go out and get anymore.  The first day was used to get them comfortable and the last two were hospital shifts.  "No.  I don’t actually."

Feuilly snorts.  “That’s okay.  I’ll lend you some of the starter stuff I bought.  I went a little overboard the first week, and then R got me some doubles too.  Between the two of us you should be good until you can get to the pet store.”

It’s a wonderful feeling that Combeferre is not the only one confused.  Bahorel, who was coming over to hit Feuilly on the shoulder and hand her a drink, looks even more confused.  Actually, everyone but R is.

"Sorry?"

"I’ll lend you some stuff until you can get to the store."

Her eyebrow rises again.  It seems to say that if he doesn’t get it this time, he’s a lost cause.

"Yes, I heard that but I’m confused in how you have things for cats."

R starts to laugh beside Enjolras.  It would be nice if Combeferre wasn’t getting increasingly frustrated with his confusion.  Feuilly actually has the decency to look embarrassed.  Though it’s probably not because they’re confused.  (He’ll take what he can get though.)

"Well," she clears her throat, looking pointedly at R.  "I’ve had a kitten for about three weeks now."

"WHAT?"

Courfeyrac actually falls on his face in his attempt to join their small group.  Bahorel just looks wounded at his best friend for not telling him, and obviously telling R.  Combeferre overhears Feuilly - as he goes to help Courf off the floor - explain that R has a more open schedule.

"I want a kitten now!  You and Feuilly have a kitten," Courf is looking at him pathetically from the floor.  "Wait!  I know, since you have two, I can have Hippocattus!  Then I’ll have one, you’ll have one and Feuilly’ll have one.  It’s perfect!"

"No Courf, no it’s not.  Because one: you’re not getting a kitten until you can prove you can take care of one.  Two: you aren’t taking my kitten, he loves me already and that would traumatise him.  And three: you can try to take on Ascatpius but he’ll take off your hand for taking away his ward."

Hazel eyes flicker over to Scat.  They take in the giant form, curled into a massive ball in Cosette’s lap, the giant gold eyes and the evil twitch to his tail.  Courfeyrac shudders a little and clings tighter to Combeferre’s hand.  “No.  You might be right.”

"Good man."


End file.
